


I'll Be Your Glass of Wine, You Be My Shot of Whiskey

by ash_mcj



Series: Teen Wolf Events 2021 [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anniversary, Cheating kink, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Fake Meet In A Bar, M/M, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Not Cheating, Not smut but a little spicy, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Werewolf Mates, sterek, sterekvalentineweek2021, they do not actually cheat because it's still just with each other, they pretend to be strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29323872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ash_mcj/pseuds/ash_mcj
Summary: “An Alpha...am I supposed to be impressed?” Stiles raised an eyebrow and Derek smirked.“Have something against Alphas?”“I have one at home,” Stiles said, purposefully lacing his tone with annoyance as he fought to keep his breathing even, since the ridiculously attractive man had not left his personal space. “I actually came to this bar to get my mind off of him, though."“Well, I don't know how desperately you're wanting a distraction tonight, Red," Derek said, his eyes raking over the tight black shirt clinging to Stiles’ toned torso and down to his acid-washed skinny jeans. "-but I've got an empty house and a top-shelf wine cellar. I'm sure I could figure out a way to get your mind off of your shitty anniversary."Stiles pretended to think it over for a moment while tracing the ring of his glass with his finger, before asking, “Do you have a car?”“Camaro out front.”[or: Derek and Stiles occasionally like to pretend they're strangers in a bar and go home together](For~ Sterek Valentine Week 2021; Day 2: Anniversary)
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Teen Wolf Events 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2152587
Comments: 19
Kudos: 203
Collections: Sterek Valentine Week





	I'll Be Your Glass of Wine, You Be My Shot of Whiskey

**Author's Note:**

> Rating is like TV-14 level, okay? This will be a little spicy, but not graphic. Nakedness and lube are very briefly mentioned at the end, but they don't actually have sex 'on screen' and nothing past torso touching/kissing is featured. So, if this bothers you - please don't read.

It started innocently enough.

_Stiles opened the refrigerator to see it empty. Again._

_“What the hell?” Stiles groaned to himself, almost forgetting that he was on the phone with Erica._

“What’s up, Batman?” _She asked him._

_“Oh nothing - my boyfriend is just a fucking asshole.”_

_As if on cue, Derek strolled into the kitchen with his thick eyebrows raised in a way that Stiles knew meant 'what are you accusing me of this time?'_

“What’d he do?” _Erica laughed._

 _“He didn’t go to the grocery store..._ again _...when I’ve been asking him for an entire_ week _now.”_

_Derek winced slightly and opened his mouth, but Stiles just held his hand up and said, “Don’t even.”_

“What?” _Erica questioned, confusedly._

_“Sorry - some douche tried to cut into the conversation and I’m just really not in the mood.”_

“Derek, I’m assuming?”

_“No,” Stiles scoffed, turning again to look the man over carefully. “This guy is way hotter than Derek and his stupid face and stupid bunny teeth and cocky smirks.”_

_Erica’s cackling filled the kitchen, before she finally said,_ “I’m out,” _and hung up the phone._

_“Bunny teeth?” Derek asked him._

_“Yeah, super weird. He’s supposed to be a wolf, but something obviously got mixed up.” Stiles walked over to the counter and grabbed the pathetic plastic bag that held one piece of bread - the fucking heel, of course - and threw the offensive 'food' into the toaster. He could feel Derek’s gaze on his back and snapped, “Dude, do you mind? I already have to eat this defected piece of toast for dinner - I don’t need to deal with your staring.”_

_“You could order food,” Derek suggested._

_“I do a lot for that asshole, you know,” Stiles ignored him. “I help him take down the never-ending stream of big bads that are always trying to overrun the territory. I cook pretty damn well, if I do say so myself. I can just about make him cum with my homemade snickerdoodles and chocolate mousse._ And _I not only deal with his annoying pack, but I help care for them and love the shit out of them. I give my all to him and his pack - and he can’t even go grocery shopping for me.”_

_The kitchen was silent for a few long seconds and Stiles briefly wondered if he was being too dramatic. He was pissed, though! He had the right to be!_

_“He sounds like dick,” Derek finally said._

_“Tell me about it. Figures, though - he’s an Alpha. Alphas are always dicks, in my experience.”_

_Between one moment and the next, Stiles felt the larger man crowd him against the counter from behind, his strong arms bracketing him between the wolf and the black marble. Stiles was about to say something - probably something sassy and brilliant, as usual - but then he felt a hot breath ghost against his ear as Derek’s lower lip dragged wetly up the shell of his helix and all thoughts left his mind immediately. Then, with a voice closer to a growl than anything even remotely human, Derek whispered, “Sounds like you need a better Alpha taking care of you.”_

And then it wasn’t so innocent anymore.

* * *

* * *

_When Stiles got home from work, he noticed three things:_

_1 - Derek was not there._

_2 - The pictures of him and Derek that usually littered the living room walls were missing._

_3 - There was a post-it note on the kitchen table with the address to a local bar and a time scrawled on it in Derek’s handwriting._

Stiles strolled into the building with less than a minute to spare and immediately spotted the familiar black leather-clad man at the bar, casually swirling his whiskey on the rocks in his hand while he talked to the bartender. He took a deep breath to calm the nerves that always bubbled up in his stomach when they’d do this, then composed his face, before making his way over to the man.

“This seat taken?” Stiles asked, looking pointedly at the empty stool beside him. 

Derek looked up at Stiles with mischievous green eyes and a charming smile that screamed, in the most subtle and dangerous way, that he was a predator that _knew_ the affect he had on people - on _Stiles_. And he knew how to use it to make Stiles forget how to breathe sometimes.

It was one of his favorite parts of Derek. His confidence. His power. 

Derek pushed the stool out with his foot and nodded at it, so Stiles sat down beside him.

“Hale,” He introduced himself, holding a hand out. Stiles had a mind to chastise him about his lack of creativity - he could have at least gone with Miguel.

“Sober,” Stiles said instead of taking his hand and Derek nodded. 

“Red wine for Red here,” Derek told the bartender.

"Bold of you to assume my drink, Hale," Stiles said coolly.

"Was I wrong?"

Stiles didn't answer, because there was no point in even _pretending_ to argue with the knowing glint in Derek's eyes. 

The drink was set in front of Stiles and he took a sip, before asking Derek, “Red, huh?”

“Am I wrong in assuming that you’re a human running with wolves?”

Of course he was Little Red Riding Hood now. Fucking Derek Hale. “What gave me away?”

Derek suddenly leaned into Stiles' space just enough to make his breath traitorously hitch, then noticeably flared his nostrils as he sniffed him. “Their scents are all over you.”

“So...a wolf, then?”

In response, Derek glanced around to make sure no one was looking - which they weren't, since the bar was mostly empty on Wednesday nights - and then flashed his eyes at him.

“An Alpha...am I supposed to be impressed?” Stiles raised an eyebrow and Derek smirked.

“Have something against Alphas?”

“I have one at home,” Stiles said, purposefully lacing his tone with annoyance as he fought to keep his breathing even, since the ridiculously attractive man had not left his personal space. “I actually came to this bar to get my mind _off_ of him, though.”

“Trouble in the den?”

“It's our five year anniversary...I came home to an empty house and a note saying he was going out with the pack tonight and to not wait up.”

“ _Oof_ ,” Derek chuckled humorlessly as he shook his head. “Sounds like you’ve got yourself a good one there.”

“Hence the wine.” Stiles raised his glass towards Derek in a ‘cheers’ motion, before taking another few swallows.

“Well, I don't know how... _desperately_ you're wanting a distraction tonight, Red," Derek said, his eyes raking over the tight black shirt clinging to Stiles’ toned torso and down to his acid-washed skinny jeans. "-but I've got an empty house and a top-shelf wine cellar. I'm sure I could figure out a way to get your mind off of your shitty anniversary." 

Stiles pretended to think it over for a moment while tracing the ring of his glass with his finger, before asking, “Do you have a car?” 

“Camaro out front,” Derek answered as he handed the bartender a couple of bills and stood up to once again offer his hand to Stiles. This time, he took it and allowed the Alpha to pull him up to his feet and guide him towards the exit.

* * *

Stiles followed Derek into the kitchen and leaned against the marble countertop. “Nice place you’ve got here, Hale.”

“My bedroom’s even nicer,” Derek told him as he grabbed a bottle out of the wine cooler and opened it.

“Forward much?” Stiles snorted.

“Was there another reason you came home with me, Red? Because I don’t even need to be a wolf to know that you’ve wanted me since the second you sat down at the bar.”

Stiles shouldn’t have blushed. Seriously - he shouldn’t have. He did, though, obviously. “You're wrong, actually.”

“Oh really?”

“Yep.” Stiles moved closer to the man and grabbed the bottle from his hand, before taking several swallows straight from the aperture. “I’ve been mentally undressing you since I _arrived_ at the bar. But it’s an honest mistake - you didn’t see me until I sat down.”

“Hm...which pieces did you mentally remove first?” Derek asked, closing the distance between them. Stiles stepped backwards until his back hit the edge of the counter and Derek leaned in to put his hands on either side of him. “Was there a part of me in particular you wanted to see?”

“You need pointers on how to undress?” Stiles raised his eyebrows as a cocky grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. “What - is this your first time, Alpha?”

The expression quickly fell off his face when Derek’s hand was suddenly gripping his jaw and tilting his head up slightly. “You think you’re cute, don’t you?” Stiles’ eyes were locked on Derek’s as the wolf’s drifted over his face - examining him as if he were trying to read every secret Stiles could possibly be trying to hide.

Derek shifted his hand to hook his fingers under Stiles’ chin while brushing his thumb softly over his lower lip, pulling it down just slightly to expose his bottom teeth. 

Gods, Derek was beautiful. He wanted to _touch_ . He wanted to scratch his fingers through the rough beard covering the man’s jaw. He wanted to lick the patch of chest hair that was just barely sticking out from the top of the unbuttoned v-neck of his burgundy Henley. He just... _wanted._

“What are you thinking about, Red?” Derek’s low voice pulled him out of his thoughts and Stiles refocused his attention on his eyes, away from where they’d drifted lower.

“Your shirt,” He answered quickly.

Derek huffed out a laugh and said, “I thought I’d get a little more out of you before you forgot how to make sentences.”

Stiles set the wine bottle down and pushed off the counter to stand straighter, asserting himself a bit more as he said, “You wanted to know what part of you I wanted to undress first...was I not actually supposed to answer?”

Derek pulled away from Stiles and he almost pouted as the heat that was radiating from the werewolf left with him - but then Derek was shrugging out of his leather jacket and setting it on the counter, followed by his shirt.

Stiles held his breath as he watched the muscles in Derek’s chest and shoulders shift and ripple under his skin as he moved back to box him against the counter again. Derek used the tip of his finger to push Stiles’ chin up towards his face, breaking the stupor his exposed torso put him into. When he knew Stiles wasn’t going to look back down, he trailed the finger down the front of his throat, over his Adam’s apple and down to tap twice on the dip between his collar bones.

Stiles took it as a reminder to breathe again. Breathing was probably important.

Derek hooked his finger in the collar of Stiles’ shirt and pulled him forward, inches away from his face. Stiles’ eyes flickered down to his lips and he instinctively licked his own.

“Anything else you wanted to see?”

“You said your bedroom was nice?” Stiles said shakily.

“It is.”

Stiles waited for Derek to do something - kiss him, move away enough for them to go to the bedroom, _anything_ \- but he didn’t.

“So…”

“So...do you have something to ask me?”

Stiles wanted to say _‘Are you fucking serious?’_ , but instead asked, “Take me to your bedroom?”

“Who taught you manners?” Derek taunted.

“Please,” Stiles added, mildly wanting to punch Derek in his stupid perfect abs. Unfortunately, the urge to _lick_ those abs was stronger, so he decided to play nicely.

Derek finally took a step back and motioned with his head for Stiles to make his way out of the kitchen. 

Stiles didn’t need to be prompted twice, but before he even had the chance to make it to the doorway, he jumped at the feeling of a warm hand slipping under his shirt and settling on his lower back.

“Relax,” Derek soothed, rubbing small circles into Stiles’ skin as he guided him towards the hallway. “You’re so jumpy...I’ll only bite if you ask nicely.”

 _“Fuck,”_ Stiles breathed before he could stop himself and he didn’t even need to turn to _feel_ Derek’s smug expression. 

Damn that stupid Alpha and his ability to know exactly what his affect on Stiles was. Five years, and he was still able to make him feel like an inexperienced sixteen-year-old again in an instant.

When they made it to the bedroom, Stiles froze - because _what the fuck_.

The unmade blue cotton sheets and cream blanket that were there not an hour before when Stiles was getting ready, were _gone_ \- and replaced with red satin sheets and a plush black comforter.

It made the room feel different, like it wasn’t _theirs_ \- w hich made Stiles’ pants feel even tighter, because _fuck_ if this wasn’t the room of the sexy, rich Alpha that brought him home from the bar.

“Problem?” Derek asked, slowly brushing his hand around Stiles’ side and to the front of his stomach. His pinkie dipped low, slipping under the waistband of his jeans and Stiles shivered as he leaned backwards against him.

“No,” Stiles said. “The room looks... _good_.”

“What can I say - I like red,” Derek mumbled as he leaned in to slowly lick a stripe up the side of Stiles’ neck.

Stiles was _hot_ . His skin was burning and he needed to be in less clothing, like _yesterday_. His fingers drifted to fumble with the button on his jeans, but Derek grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“Might need to take your shoes off first,” he suggested.

Right, shoes. Can’t take the jeans off while wearing those.

Stiles tried to crouch down, but Derek pulled him closer by the hips, so Stiles opted to bend over instead. Which made untying his boots even harder, since he barely remember how to use his fingers when he could feel Derek’s hard bulge against his ass.

Before he’d even managed the first one, Derek’s hand returned to the base of his back, his fingertips tracing lightly up his spine as he pushed the shirt upwards. Stiles was just moving onto the second shoe, when he felt the blunt fingernails sharpen into claws and press gently into his skin.

“You mark so easily,” Derek noted appreciatively as he pushed the shirt far enough for Stiles to easily let it drop over his head and down his arms. Then a hand in his grown-out hair pulled him upwards and tilted his head back against Derek’s shoulder, exposing his neck and forcing him to look up at the ceiling. _Fuck_.

Derek’s clawed finger traced over the slightly-raised scar left in the junction of his neck and shoulder, where the mating bite was placed the day he turned nineteen - and several times more over the years, when Stiles would get especially bratty or Derek was in a possessive mood.

The claw moved lower, catching softly on his collarbone, before continuing it’s path down over his chest. A needy whine escaped from Stiles’ throat for a split second as he brushed over his nipple and Derek groaned softly at the sound. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the mating bite and traced his tongue affectionately over the ridges, causing Stiles to tremble slightly against him.

“If I make it to your pants before you do, I’m shredding them,” Derek warned as his hand kept moving lower over his ribs. Stiles thought about it for a moment - because _that was fucking hot_ \- but unfortunately, he liked these pants. He quickly reached down and undid the button and zipper, so they were able to slide down easily when Derek reached them.

Derek lowered himself to the ground behind Stiles, dragging his pants and boxers with him. He firmly ran his claws up the backs of Stiles’ thighs, leaving welts in his wake, and Stiles hissed, “You’re still wearing too much.”

“God, you're impatient,” Derek teased, his hands continuing upwards until they ghosted over the curve of his ass and he squeezed, causing Stiles to reach back and grab his wrists.

“ _Clothes. Off,”_ Stiles insisted. He knew Derek - so he _knew_ that sonofabitch couldn’t be trusted back there for long. He - or rather, his tongue - had a habit of getting _distracted_ , and Stiles wasn’t trying to cum any other way than on Derek’s cock tonight, thank you very much.

By the time Stiles kicked his shoes off and stepped out of his pants, Derek was already completely undressed and hooking his hands behind Stiles’ thighs to prompt him to jump up and wrap his legs around his waist. When he did, Derek brought him over to the bed and all but threw them both down onto the mattress. 

Derek’s forearms were planted on either side of Stiles’ head to make sure he didn’t crush him, but he still leaned a good amount of his weight onto him, providing a familiarly comforting blanket of muscle and warmth that he knew Stiles craved. The wolf rolled his hips languidly, grinding against the younger man and pulling a breathy moan from him as he tilted his head back against the sheets to allow Derek to kiss along his exposed neck. 

Stiles let him suck, lick, and lightly drag his sharpened teeth across the sensitive skin for several minutes, before he used his legs to pull Derek’s hips roughly against him.

“If you don’t get the fucking lube already, your wolf ass is sleeping on the couch,” Stiles threatened, his voice a lot shakier than he would have liked. Whatever.

“Brat,” Derek growled, before licking his tongue over the hoop earring in Stiles’ earlobe and gently tugging it with his canine.

“You love me.”

Derek pulled back just enough to look fondly down at his mate as he said, “Happy anniversary, Pup.”

“Lube, bitch.”

Derek pinched Stiles’ side, eliciting a yelp, before moving towards the nightstand. He didn’t reach it, though, because he was tackled off the bed in retaliation by his stupid boyfriend who - for some reason - thought he had any chance at winning a wrestling match against a werewolf.

He didn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> I’d love to know if you liked it by commenting or leaving kudos!


End file.
